We are heading to Taiwan tonight. It’s just a very brief stopover – two nights – on our way to Fukuoka, Japan. Taipei was actually was meant to be three nights, but we delayed and stayed an extra day in Hong Kong instead.

That delay came about because we didn't want to leave.

I still feel conflicted about leaving for Taiwan. I have come up with all sorts of quote-unquote rational explanations: we have to move hostels, as no one can accommodate us for both nights (such a drag); we’ll lose money converting to a whole new currency for only two days; the Lonely Planet is apparently useless as it failed to give details on getting into town from the airport by public transport … and so my list went on.

I don’t think the apprehensiveness has much to do with Taiwan at all, actually.

More likely, I’m petrified of how close going home has got.

I think perhaps I was subconsciously thinking, ‘I’ll just stay here, living in Mirador Mansions, Hong Kong, and no one will ever find me! The trip can be indefinite!’

Cunning strategy, it was not. A plan about as well-thought out as a pre-schooler’s attempt to ‘run away from home’, I think you’d agree.

Taiwan, I don’t mean to have a bad attitude to you – I’m sorry. I think it’s more that you’re the second-last foreign country on the RTW itinerary, and so after you, there’s only the disturbing wonderland of high-speed, high-expense Japan standing between us and our Real Lives.